Living Lies
by Rodeogalforever
Summary: Being taught something your entire life makes it difficult to change your mind about it. But when a young Viking learns everything she's known is a lie will she be able to fix her mistakes before it's too late? A School of Dragons fanfiction.
1. Chapter 1

**This is an idea I had based off of the movies How To Train Your Dragon 1 and 2, the series on Cartoon Network and mainly the game School of Dragons. There is some timeline jumping, I hope it's not too hard to understand. Everything will make sense the farther we get into the story. **

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I stood stiffly on the stone steps in front of the Meade Hall. My thin frame was saturated by the cold but my stubbornness kept me from shivering. The iron shackles that bound my hands had rubbed my pale wrists raw. Between the cuffs the chain drooped heavily towards the ground. The frosty air was still and created a numb atmosphere. A gravelly voice belted out "Marhilde of unknown origins has been charged with robbery and treachery. Before the council begins discussing your sentence you have permission to speak."

I inhaled deeply and held the freezing air inside me, letting it burn from the inside out while I summoned all the strength I could. I let it out slowly in a stream of mist that swirled through the air before dissipating. "Thank you. But for you to understand I have to start at the beginning."

"My name is not Marhilde. It's Whiplash. Actually it's not Whiplash either but that's what I've been called for so long I can't remember my real name. I'm called Whiplash because I'm known for my speed. I attack first and so quickly you don't know what's hit you until you feel the pain. The other Berserker children knew not to mess with me. Yes, I am a born and raised Berserker. I graduated in middle of the class in dragon training- back when we still killed them."

_I have an unusually good memory. And one of my strongest memories is my first day of dragon training. In Berserker villages you're started young. From the time you can walk there's a weapon in your hand and every day you're being trained how to use it. Not only against dragons but against people too. Hand to hand combat is a popular pastime for children. Mock wars and hunting for small animals are common forms of entertainment as well. Dragon training starts at 12 and never really ends. After months of training with old dragons in the ring, classes lose their formality and you join the adults fighting dragons in the open._

_I remember how scared I was. I cried until I left the house. "I don't want to fight dragons! They're big and scary and they eat you! Why can't I just fight people for the rest of my life?"_

_"People aren't our only enemies," My mother replied. "We need everyone's help defending our village from any threat that comes our way."_

_I forced myself to stop crying before I left. Letting yourself be seen crying is just as bad if not worse than fighting dragons. When I lined up in the ring with the other young Vikings I wondered if anyone else felt less confident than they looked. It didn't seem like it. They chatted and joked, chests puffed out and weapons held easily. To them it was just another game. Our instructor stepped out in front of us and we all stood at attention. A young adult - not that there were many older ones - he was slightly less than average height with messy black hair and an eyepatch. His uncovered eye was a dark brown and on his lips he wore a confident smirk._

_"Welcome to dragon training." His voice was smooth and charming. Not a usual Berserker. His friendly demeanor made his welcome felt. "My name's Leif and I'll be training you over the next several months. Now before we start there's something I want to make sure you all understand. Many of the Vikings that come through here are scared of dragons."_

_It was comforting knowing I wasn't the only one. "They come here hoping to crush that fear and they usually do. As big, strong Berserkers, to you I'm sure that sounds great. But losing your fear can be a dangerous thing. When fear is absent you're not as careful; you get cocky. And that's when accidents happen. That's when people get hurt." He paused to look at each one of us. "You need to know it's ok to be afraid. It's not ok to let the fear overwhelm you. But a healthy dose of fear will keep you on your toes. And that's what makes a good dragon fighter."_

_After his speech I felt sure I would be able to overcome my petrifying fear and fight dragons as well as I fought humans. And with his help I did. Because the training period was so short I didn't have time to perfect my skills and still made frequent mistakes by graduation. But I kept practicing and honing my skills until I was as good as the best of the graduating class. That was always a fond memory. Even though times have changed, I don't think it's one I'll let go._

"When Dagur orders something, it doesn't matter who you are, you do it. So when he called for all young Berserkers of course I had to go. My parents were apprehensive about it, but we had no choice. Standing in line I watched as many prime examples of vikingness were dismissed. I wondered why. What could he be looking for that they don't have?"

_Another clear memory. But not such a nice one. I stood in line with all the other Berserkers my age from every village in the territory. Teenagers stretched from Dagur's throne over the rocky ground all the way to the wooden doors. The cavelike room was lit dimly by a large fire pit. Occasionally the embers would crackle and send up sparks that returned to the smoldering fuel as ashes. Dagur the Deranged, leader of the Berserkers was still a teen himself. He claimed leadership when his father mysteriously "disappeared". Short and slightly stocky, the thin Viking was incredibly strong. His red hair he kept short and usually hidden under his spiked helmet. He always wore war paint and surprise, surprise it was Berserker signature blue._

_When it was finally my turn I stood before Dagur in war paint and armor, weapons strapped at my sides, the whole outfit of a Berserker soldier. He was slouched in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose. Starting at a whisper and raising the volume at each word he said "Why... can't someone bring me what I need?" His voice rang in echoes around the stone carved room. When he saw me he straightened and his eyes lit up. "Scrawny, few scars, how was she in dragon training?" Leif was standing with a group of guards by Dagur's throne. His eyebrows shot up as he nodded his head and lifted his thumb. When Dagur looked away Leif winked his one eye at me._

_"What's your name?"_

_"Whiplash," I said in a stern soldier's reply._

_"She's perfect! Alright everyone out," He demanded waving towards the door. Obeying his order quickly, everyone pushed and shoved their way to the doors where they filed into the hall beyond. Dagur, Leif, the guards and I were the only ones left. I struggled to keep from shaking, I needed to look strong in front of my leader._

_"You, my dear, have been chosen for a very special job. You see, in the past our attempts at training dragons have been... failures." At the last word a shadow crossed his face and he pounded his fist on the arm of his throne; obviously it was a hard thing to admit. "But I've devised a brilliant new plan." In a split second his mood changed to ecstasy. "Instead of trying to figure out how to train dragons ourselves, we're going to do what works. We are going to use Berk's way of training dragons." He looked overly pleased with himself but I was still lost in the dark. I tried to keep a neutral face to hide my confusion._

_"You, Skirtsash, will be sent to the School of Dragons, founded by Berk to teach people how to train dragons. You will learn everything you can and report to me every month with the information you have collected. After your graduation you will return to Berserker Island with enough eggs from their hatchery to start our own academy. And you will train our dragon riders for battle. Sound good Quickflash?"_

_Even the dullest Berserkers knows to never disagree with Dagur - no matter what the terms are. "Yes, great," I answered releasing the air I had been holding as a breathy laugh I hoped sounded happy. A very large amount of pressure had been placed on me and I wasn't sure I could handle it._

_"You will have to leave tomorrow. They will be accepting recruits for only a few more days. Berk would never allow a Berserker to enter the School of Dragons so we need to make sure no one finds out where you came from. You will be sent to several villages before traveling to Berk so your trail will be difficult to trace. I hope you're skilled in deception because we don't want anyone discovering who you are."_

_"I..." To my embarrassment my voice broke. I cleared my throat and started again. "I can do it." I didn't sound very convincing._

_"You will be going alone. For you to arrive in Berk on time you must leave at sunrise tomorrow morning. We should not have to discuss what will happen if you miss a boat and do not get to the School this year."_

_"Yes sir."_

_"You can go now."_

_"Goodbye sir."_

"He needed a young Berserker that no one would suspect was a Berserker. He needed a spy to send to Berk's School of Dragons. So he picked me."

_I remember how worried my parents were when I told them what had happened that night._

_"You have to be careful," my mother warned. "Don't ever let your guard down. The web of lies you'll be spinning can come apart by one careless mistake."_

_"You will have to remember that you're there on a mission," my father said. "And you have to remember the consequences if you do not complete your mission."_

_"Don't do anything to jeopardize your success. Don't make friends. It will make it harder for you to betray them at the end."_

_"Pay attention to all your classes. You have to teach everything you will learn to many others and you will have to do it well."_

_"But don't bring too much attention to yourself. You need to blend in with everyone else."_

_"It's just so much," I huffed in desperation. "I don't know if I can do it."_

_"You can't think like that!" My mother scolded._

_"She's right. You have to do this. You know what will happen if you don't. You can't think for a second that failure is an option."_

_"It will be so hard all by myself."_

_"I know," my mother cooed. "But you can do it. I know you can. You're my big tough girl that can beat all the boys."_

_We all shared a laugh. My reputation wasn't a secret. Everyone knew how I got my name._

_"You will need to create a cover story." My father reminded._

_"And a new name," My mother said._

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**I searched but could not find the name of the Berserker's home from the series or game. If there is one, please Feel free to correct me. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I changed things up on you a little. Everything Whiplash/Marhilde is remembering is in italics. Anything in normal font is her telling her story. I edited the first chapter so it follows this change as well. I hope this will make it easier to understand. Let me know if the excessive italics are too hard to read, I can change it back if I have to. There is a reason for this though and it will become clear near the end.**

**Shade ShadowWolf: I did some more searching after I posted the first chapter and all I came up with was the island of Berserk from the How To Train Your Dragon Wiki. They all make sense so I'll just stick with what I have. **

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_I remember standing on the docks in Berk and thinking about what it took to get there. A sharp wind tossed my dark hair over my shoulders. Most of the time it looks dark brown, almost black. But when the sun hits it you can tell it's really red. It twists itself into fat curls that spiral down my back. I tugged at my light blue shirt, the only sleeve was a ring of fabric that hung off my right shoulder. Accompanying that was a plated leather skirt with a sprinkling of decorative spikes. Black pants disappeared into my furry boots. Such a simple outfit was not typical Berserker garb. I felt strange wearing such light clothing, the absence of armor and heavy weapons made me uncomfortable. Never to be caught unarmed I carried a dagger on my belt and a knife in my left boot. A densely packed leather satchel hung across my body containing all the belongings I brought from home._

_Three nights ago I stripped off my armor and washed away my war paint, not to be worn again for years. I packed my bag and formulated a new identity. In the morning - well really I should say later that night, it was hours before the sun rose - I left home and headed for the Berserker harbor. There I boarded a small vessel filled with rowers. We were headed for a nearby island where I would board a local ship and sail to an island nearer to Berk. We made excellent time and arrived mid-afternoon. After exiting the Berserker ship I was on my own. The next ship I boarded was a trading vessel on which Dagur had a disguised soldier secure my passage. Several others were using the boat as transportation as well._

_I spent the afternoon browsing the goods on board and exploring the ship. I wasn't really interested in any of it, I just needed something to pass the time. That night I slept below deck in close quarters with the rest of the passengers and crew. It was the first time I spent the night surrounded by strangers. I stayed away from everyone because I couldn't have anyone spreading word that I was a Berserker, I needed to remain anonymous, another face in the crowd. Being so close to Berserker Island the natives were in contact with us frequently and because of that they are able to identify Berserkers more easily than those who live in areas less frequently graced by our presence. It is possible they might associate me with the Berserkers by my speech or mannerisms; I still retained Berserker tendencies in both._

_We arrived at Omorika early the next morning. I boarded another ship heading to Linvalt and would sail from there to Berk. We sailed through the night and arrived at the mountainous island some time in the afternoon. The thick cloud cover prevented accurate time estimation. The area was saturated in gray light from the gloomy weather and everything was permeated by the chilly ocean air. The choppy water could be heard swishing underfoot. The worn boards on the dock creaked and swayed with the movement of the water beneath and the people above._

_After hearing so much about the island my whole life I was naturally excited to finally see it. I had heard they hid dragons away and released them when they were needed to attack. Some returning Berserkers say the warriors were commanded by children and the village by silly old men. There has been speculation that they cast spells on dragons to control their minds. Others say it's the dragons that are controlling them. The most widely accepted belief among the Berserkers though is that however they are doing it, Berkians are using dragons to gain control over the archipelago. The school I'm being sent to is the latest installment in their scheme to broadcast their scaley servants and use them to manipulate the villages that accept them._

_The Berkians are a sinister bunch. Using tricks and lies to gain power rather than force. But I won't fall for it. None of their ploys will work on me because I know what they're doing. Dagur warned me about how they lead you into something until you're so distracted you can't stop them until it's too late._

_There was not much to see of Berk from the docks. On this side of the island there were no beaches. The only way to access the ocean was a straight drop off the cliffs hundreds of feet above the water. To solve this problem, the Berkians constructed a series of ramps attached to the cliff face that lead down to the waters. Across from the docks was a circular platform made of wood that rested on thick wooden piles. Water lapped at the barnacle laden sides. The stairs spiraling the structure were rickety and at the top was a rotted old catapult. Obviously it had been in disuse for a long time. I wondered why. _

_There was a definite curve of the land in this particular area. It was possible this place jutted out from the rest of the island. Whatever the cause, from the angle I couldn't see much of the rest of the cliffs. There were colorful poles and hoops built into the cliff, for what I had no idea. They were placed at odd intervals and from what I could tell had no purpose. I could see nothing above the cliff. The one thing that was noticeable though, was the constant chaotic noise of dragons. Squawking, screeching, growling, there must have been many on that island. The normal sounds of a Viking village could be heard above as well. I could not comprehend what possessed those people to allow dragons to run wild in their village. How did they live with all that noise?_

_In a more serene environment below, there were many young people mulling around on the docks with me. But I was avoided by all of them. Probably because of the scowl stretched on my face from having to get on a boat again. Three days and nights of endless rocking on the ocean was enough to put anyone in a bad mood. The constant itch of salty sea spray, the never ceasing wind, I was done with it. Done with it all. At least the next ride would be a short one. And there would be plenty of people to observe, that kept me busy. Ever since I left Berserker Island I had been watching everyone around me to find different ways of speaking, walking and standing. Any mannerism I didn't change might lead back to associating me with the Berserkers._

_A longship was tethered to the dock, prepared for the passengers to board. The traditional shields decorated the sides and a colorful sail was tied up on the mast; ready to be unfurled and pull the ship across the rough surface. The deck consisted of rows of benches. Apparently this vessel was used only for transportation to and from the school. _

_A young man was stationed by the ramp to board, holding a sheet of paper that he studied closely. He called for passengers to begin boarding. The line moved slower than I expected. I discovered why when I got closer. He was checking each passenger on his list. When it was my turn the boat was quickly filling. Over half the seats were taken._

_"Registration please," he asked sounding bored._

_"My what?"_

_"I need to see your approved registration papers for your acceptance to the School of Dragons."_

_"I don't have that," I replied. I kept a bored attitude. I was well trained at maintaining the appearance I wanted, but inside was a whole different story. I was panicking._

_He gestured to a tall red haired woman standing near the prow of the ship. "Go talk to her."_

_I slipped out of line and trotted down the dock. "Excuse me, I was told to speak to you about registering."_

_She swung over the side and onto the dock beside me. "Just give me one second." She retrieved a piece of paper with something already written on it, a quill and a bottle of ink. Leaning on the top of a barrel she asked "Name?" And printed my answers in neat black runes. _

_"Marhilde."_

_"Age?"_

_"Thirteen."_

_"Where are you from?"_

_"Torvich."_

_"You've made quite a trip."_

_"Going to the school will be worth it."_

_She folded the paper and sealed it with a dragon crest. "I hope you'll make it. We take students on a first come, first serve basis. Once your registration is approved you have to wait in line and hope the boat doesn't fill before you get a seat. If you don't make it, you'll have to wait till next year. Good luck." She added with a smile._

_I hurried to the end of the line and prayed there would be space for me. A latecomer fell in behind me as the number of people on the dock dwindled. Finally there was only one person between me and a seat on the boat to the School of Dragons. The boy ahead of me was tall with shaggy dark hair. When asked for his registration he presented it proudly, only for the attendant to reject it for its lack of seal. After glancing at the registration the attendant went back to studying his list. Without looking up he said "Your registration must be approved before you can board. Take it to her," he gestured to the lady who had filled out my registration for me, "and have her approve it for you."_

_Not happy in the least he stomped out of line. I stepped up and presented my freshly sealed registration. He opened it and scanned the contents, scribbled something in his scroll and waved for me to board. I sat on the outer side of a bench near the back. Shortly after finding my seat I heard the attendant announce "The ship is full. Entrance to the School of Dragons is closed for the year." _

_Neither of the young men remaining on the dock looked pleased. The tall boy that had been in front of me - the boy that had he possessed proper paperwork would have been on the ship instead of me - looked ready to pummel the attendant. The other looked devastated._

_The attendant and the woman both hopped on board and within minutes we were on our way. The boat was tightly packed with young Vikings from all across the archipelago making it quite noisy. But all I could think about was how close I had come to failing my mission before it had even begun. I vowed to never let that happen again. But the situation was out of my hands._


	3. Chapter 3

_Due to some sort of complications we didn't make it to the school before dark. Unable to see the narrow opening in the ring of mountains we could not proceed on to the school inside. Attempting to navigate the passageway in the dark would no doubt end in catastrophe. I was frustrated that my entrance was delayed. Sitting in a boat in the ocean and not on the island carrying out my mission made me anxious. _

_From what I could see before everything melted into darkness when the sun went down, steep slopes formed the mountainside; they continued down to the waterline and probably a good distance beneath it. Grass was scarce on the dark cliffs; most likely comprised of volcanic rock. We anchored a safe distance away from the rocks and shoals and prepared to spend the night. _

_This was easier said than done. Three people were squashed together on each hard wooden bench. There was nothing to rest your back on and it was definitely a challenge to find a place for your elbows while keeping the three of you balanced when the boat swayed. At the start of the trip it was quite awkward. There was lots of jostling. But eventually my two benchmates and I found positions that kept us all seated in somewhat comfort. I sat in the middle, straight backed with my arms on my lap and my hands folded. After several hours in this position I was understandably stiff. Thankfully we happened to get a bench on the side where the outside person could lean against the side of the ship and give the others more room. _

_The one fortunate enough to have this position was a goodnatured girl to my left with short, wavy black hair. She was thin but muscular and her eyes were a soft brown that lit up when she talked. Her enthusiasm seemed limitless. She smiled almost constantly and made jokes whenever she could. She fell asleep surprisingly fast with her head propped up by her arm resting on the side of the ship. She had beckoned me to the empty seat on the bench she shared with the boy to my right. By the vote of the majority I was put in the middle because I was smallest. It was said I'd "fit nicely." It was snug, but it did work well._

_On my right was another lively young Viking. He had short brown hair and blue eyes. Tall and thin I wondered what he had done before being sent to the School of Dragons. Most boys from any village have thick arms and solid midsections at half his age. He was very excited to be going to the school and asked lots of questions. He and the girl had been engaged in conversation before I sat down and hardly stopped the entire ride. At first I refused to respond to any questions, but I soon realized that brought unneeded attention to me, so I talked for a while and gladly let the others carry on. My parents' warnings still rung in my ears, reminding me not to get too close, they fueled my very potent fear of Dagur and what might happen if I fail my mission. Surely being eaten by a dragon would be a better end. That is why I didn't ask their names nor give them mine. _

_I awoke the next morning very cold and very stiff. I was laying against the girl who leaned against the side with her cheek on her fist, snoring lightly. The boy leaned on my right side, his hands cushioning his head. His mouth hung open and a thin stream of drool leaked onto my shirt. I gently reached over and used a corner of his jacket to sop up the moisture that hadn't yet frozen into the fabric. A dark patch of dampness remained on the material, woven from blue, brown, gray and black threads of wool giving it an overall faded blue color. _

_Above me the navy sky was shrouded in misty gray clouds. Had it been darker a sprinkling of stars would be visible between the clouds. A lighter blue marked the eastern corner of the sky where the sun would soon rise. I had to admit, it was a very peaceful scene. The sound of water lapping at the boat's hull mingled with the small sounds of sleep. And though surrounded by people I felt alone in the world. It was a foreign feeling to me. After spending my whole life in a Berserker village - where silence is unknown - I felt out of place._

_The crew was awake shortly and raised the anchor as soon as it was light enough to see. A shadowy crevice in the side of the mountains marked the passage to the island. They unfurled the sail and scrambled past the rows of benches to take their positions. The quiet peacefulness from before was shattered by the pounding of boots across the deck and the snap of the sail in the wind. I was more familiar with this type of environment, the comfortable kind of chaos you can lose yourself in or join the action. It felt like home. The bustle of the crew on a ship was similar to that of my village. People always doing something or going somewhere. By now everyone was awake. We swayed with the motion of the vessel as the shifting weight on board caused it to rock. And soon we were surging forward with wind. _

_Finally moving again and so close to our destination excitement spread over the passengers. Some were leaning over the sides pointing out the island to their newfound friends. Others chattered excitedly about what they would do when they arrived. And some were just grateful the trip would soon be over. Several Vikings on board were seasick which made the misery of last night torture for them. I never get seasick, most Berserkers don't because they have to be able to sail warships and fight on the water. From the time you're little sailing is a part of life. I had already mastered land and sea and would soon conquer the sky. _

_Compared to floating in place the ship's movement seemed like flying, however the island crept closer at an agonizingly slow pace. But soon enough we were entering the enormous crack in the chain of mountains. When we entered into the shadow the giant walls of rock created, all warmth fled from the ship. As the chill gripped us all conversation stopped. The only sounds were from the water sloshing around us, the creaks and groans of the old boat and the eerie whistle the wind made while it rushed through the passage. It picked up the strands of hair that came loose from the knotted bun I had made out of boredom and tossed them around my face. Dark curls tickled my neck and covered my eyes. I tucked them behind my ears and gazed in awe with the others at the rock formations around us._

_The passage curved several times before we were blinded by sunlight and flooded with warmth again. When my eyes finally adjusted so I could see without squinting I took in my new surroundings. Like Berk, the school was built on cliffs high above sea level. These were much lower but cliffs just the same. Large buildings stood in many of the open spaces, painted obnoxiously with vibrant colors and patterns. Several tall pillars held flames to provide light when the sun was absent, ornate carvings decorated them from top to bottom. Tied to the stone were strings of flags that hung attached to other columns or buildings in a network of festive decor._

_We eased up to a short dock built in to a sea stack with paths carved into it. A horn blast announced our arrival. I couldn't see anything above the cliffs now that we were directly under them. All I could do was wait and do as we were told, which was difficult for me. I like to be part of the action. It wasn't long before we were told to stand and exit according to seat position. Because I was in the back it was not long before me and my benchmates were allowed to disembark. Together we stood, stretched and headed for the dock. The girl leapt over easily and waited for us to join her. Effortlessly I swung over the side like one of the crew. I smiled at her as I dusted my hands, she seemed impressed. The boy slipped while exiting the ship and would have fallen into the ocean and easily been crushed between the hull and the dock if the girl hadn't rushed forward and caught him. _

_He moved away from the edge, slightly shaken after the incident. As more young people piled onto the dock we were pushed back to the stone base. The more Vikings that joined us on land the farther we were forced back. One of the crew motioned for us to proceed up the ramps along with the those who had come ashore before us. We followed the others upward on the stone carved paths that spiraled the sea stack until we reached the peak. It was topped with a large circular stone slab supported by wood beams beneath it. I wondered what its purpose was._

_A large typical Viking male stood before us with a stone bridge behind him leading to another stack on which a brown scaly Timberjack perched. Two wooden bridges stretched from there to the cliffs beyond where a crowd of Vikings and dragons stood. Dark magic was at work here for sure. By no other way could dragons be forced into such sedate behavior. I was slightly relieved that what seemed like the welcoming party had to wait at a distance. I was not comfortable being surrounded by dragons whether they were tamed or bewitched or any other way than safely restrained or dead._

_As more young Vikings took our lead the stone area filled with bodies. Some eager, some nervous and many in a very foul mood. There was no food on the ship and the delays caused us to miss a meal. After a night on a cramped ship, hungry, cold and stiff I wasn't surprised by the majority of grouchy Vikings. We aren't known for our patience or understanding._

_"I sincerely apologize for the delay," the man began when everyone had squeezed on to the slab. The crowd quieted down to listen. "We are glad to see so many young people taking an interest in learning the true nature of dragons." He smiled through his white mustache and beard. "We just weren't prepared for the flood of new recruits. But we have smoothed everything over and we are ready to accept you all to the School of Dragons. Congratulations, you are the last group to join the School this year. You've made it."_

"And finally, after many obstacles, I had arrived. Now my mission had truly begun and I had to do whatever was necessary to make it a success."


End file.
